Chapter 7 - The Trap Snaps Shut
The penthouse lounge of the King George Hotel in Athens offered a magnificent, panoramic view of the illuminated Parthenon. Inside the dimly lit, private dining salon, Victoria Hayes sat sipping a dry martini, tapping her French-manicured nails impatiently on a leather briefcase resting on the table.
Across from her sat Julian Croft—older, greyer, his once-sleek corporate veneer tarnished by five years of heavy drinking and expatriate hiding.
“The affidavit is ready,” Julian muttered, sliding a legal folder across the linen cloth. “It states that Eleanor Vance paid me five hundred thousand dollars to fabricate the wire transfers against you. But this is the end of it, Victoria. Once I sign this, I want the bearer bonds transferred to my offshore account in Cyprus. If Vance’s investigators find me, I’m facing ten years for perjury.”
“Relax, Julian,” Victoria purred, taking a slow sip of her drink. “Alexander is completely incapacitated. His ex-wife’s child had some convenient medical emergency in Rhodes. By the time he gets his head out of the sand, this affidavit will be in the hands of the Securities and Exchange Commission and every major news network. The board will have no choice but to force Alexander into a leave of absence, and as acting chief operating officer, I will control the narrative.”
“Is that so, Victoria?”
The double doors of the private salon swung open with a resounding thud.
Victoria spun around, spilling her martini across the crisp white tablecloth. Her eyes widened in sheer disbelief as I stepped into the room. I was wearing an impeccably tailored navy power suit, my hair swept back in a sleek chignon, walking with the quiet, devastating authority of a woman who had nothing left to lose.
Beside me walked Alexander. He was flanked by two senior inspectors from the Hellenic Financial Crimes Squad and Arthur Pendelton, his chief legal counsel from New York.
“Clara?” Victoria gasped, her voice betraying her shock before she quickly scrambled to put her mask back on. She shot up from her chair, looking at Alexander with manufactured indignation. “Alexander! What is the meaning of this? Julian and I were just... we were trying to find a way to mitigate the damage Clara’s extortion plot has caused to Vance Media!”
“Save it, Julian,” Alexander said, ignoring Victoria completely as he fixed his gaze on Croft.
Julian Croft had gone completely gray. He immediately pushed back his chair and raised his trembling hands. “Alex... listen to me. I was broke. My gambling debts in Macau were out of control. She approached me! She told me you would never look closely at the Le Meurice files because your pride was too big! She promised me three million dollars!”
“Shut up, you fool!” Victoria shrieked, lunging across the table to grab the affidavit folder.
Before she could touch it, I stepped forward and slammed my hand down on the papers, pinning them to the mahogany surface. Victoria pulled back as if she had touched white-hot iron.
“You’re finished, Victoria,” I said, looking her dead in the eyes. “The New York District Attorney has already unsealed the criminal indictment. While you were flying here, the forensic team executed a search on your Manhattan penthouse. They found Eleanor’s private jewelry, the cash you looted from her desk safe while she lay dying, and the duplicate security keys used to forge my signature.”
Victoria’s chest heaved. She looked wildly between the Greek police officers standing by the door, Arthur Pendelton’s impassive legal glare, and Alexander’s stone-cold expression.
“Alexander, please!” she cried, falling to her knees on the plush carpet, crawling toward him just as she had imagined me doing five years ago. She grabbed the hem of his coat, tears ruining her mascara. “I did it for you! Look at what she did to you—she was boring, she had no ambition! I made Vance Media into a multi-billion-dollar empire! I stood by you! I loved you!”
Alexander stepped back, letting her hands fall pathetically to the floor. He looked down at her with a disgust so profound it seemed to scorch the air between them.
“You didn't love me,” Alexander said, his voice ringing with finality. “You loved the power of holding the leash. You murdered my mother by denying her medicine. You stole five years of my son’s life. You made me an accomplice to your evil.”
He turned to the Hellenic police officers. “Take her away. Arthur, coordinate the international extradition immediately. I want every single charge pursued to the maximum limit of the law. No plea bargains. No settlements.”
As the officers hauled Victoria to her feet, clicking heavy steel handcuffs around her wrists, she began to scream—a feral, unhinged sound that echoed down the gilded hallways of the luxury hotel.
“You’ll never be happy, Alexander!” she shrieked, thrashing against the officers’ grip as they dragged her toward the elevators. “She will never forgive you! Every time you look at that boy, you will remember that you threw him away! You will die alone, Alexander! Alone!”
The elevator doors closed, cutting off her poisonous cries.
May you like
Julian Croft was escorted out moments later in silence, leaving Alexander and me alone in the expansive salon overlooking the ancient ruins of Athens.
***
